Elephantine Endeavour
by PartiPooper
Summary: When Kyle takes interest in a plush pachyderm, Cartman tries to win it for him. The only problem is, Cartman sucks at claw machines. (Fluffy Kyman Valentine's One-Shot; Rated T for profanities.)


Once again, it was Valentine's Day, and so, what with all of them being single, Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny had decided to spend the day hanging out together, rather than sitting around at home feeling lonely with nothing but gag-inducing rom-coms on the television. Unfortunately, the Valentine's spirit had infected everywhere they went. There were hearts in all the shop windows, promo posters for chocolates and roses galore, and couples holding hands down every street. The only sanctuary they could find from it all was the arcade, which had decided it didn't care enough about Valentine's to take part in its commercial spoils, and for that the boys were grateful.

It was a quaint little place, as most places in South Park were. It had racing games and shooting games and sports games, and a photo booth and a prize booth, and at the front, near the open doors, it had claw machines. The three watched as their shorter, redheaded friend gasped upon spotting something in one such machine, and went to it in great excitement.

"Aw," Kyle murmured, pressing his hands against the glass of the claw machine as he peered in. "Look at the elephants."

The others looked, but none were so impressed as he. They were ordinary stuffed elephant toys, really – plump, grey things with big ears and long trunks. Still, it was no secret to any of them that Kyle liked elephants. He was always commending their intelligence to any who would stay long enough to listen, or pretend to.

"Do you wanna try and get one?" Stan asked, coming up behind him to look at the prices. Kyle, meanwhile, stepped away from the machine, shaking his head.

"No, these things are fixed. I want it, but I'm not going to spend all my allowance on something I'm not going to be able to win."

"Fair enough," Stan said. "Well, whatever, they've got other stuff. How about…" He looked around the arcade, and then smirked when he saw a machine with dance mats in the corner. "…You up for some DDR, Kyle?" He laughed when Kyle shoved him half-heartedly, pouting.

"Shut up, Stan, you know I can't dance!"

"Exactly," Kenny said, grabbing his elbow and starting to drag him towards the machine. "It'll be funny to watch you sucking, so c'mon, let's go."

"No!" Kyle protested, but Stan took hold of his other elbow, so he was out-numbered and dragged against his will to the machine.

Cartman watched them go, but did not follow. His eyes went from his friends to the black, beady ones of the elephants in the claw machine. For a while, he stared at them, deliberating. He wasn't good at claw machines, and Kyle was probably right when he claimed that they were a fix, but…

That look flashed in his mind, of Kyle looking upon the stuffed toys in awe, with his hands pressed to the glass as though trying to be closer, and the tip of his nose almost touching the glass too, and that damned smile lighting up his face…

Cartman wanted to see that look again. Therefore, he had no choice in the matter, really. With a weary sigh, he stepped up to the machine and dug around in his pocket for coins. He put a couple in, and the machine started up with some overly-peppy music and colourful flashing lights. He gripped the joystick and moved it so that it was above an elephant, pressed the trigger, and watched as the claw descended and the elephant was grabbed.

"Yes!" he cheered with a triumphant grin as he watched the elephant being lifted. But then, when the claw reached the ceiling of the machine, it juddered ever so slightly, and that minor tremor sent the elephant out of its clutches, falling back to the floor. "No!" Cartman cried, pressing his hands and most of his face against the glass, to stare down in disbelief at the elephant.

It was at that angle, laid on its side on the floor, that another detail about the elephant became evident: a small, stitched smile, hidden beneath its trunk. It looked like it was smirking at him, like it was taunting him. He could imagine its voice in his head.

_"Sorry, loser, better luck next time."_

Cartman scowled at the elephant as he dug some more coins out of his pocket and slotted them in. "I'll show you, motherfucker," he told it as the game started up again.

Except, he didn't. Again, and again, and again, and again, he failed. Over and over he had to pick up the elephant, watch it fall, insert more coins, pick up the elephant, watch it fall, insert more coins, pick up the elephant, watch it fall, insert more coins, pick up the elephant, watch it fall and fall and fall and _fall_.

"God damn it!" he yelled after failing what felt to be his hundredth try, kicking the base of the machine in vengeance. "All I want is one fucking elephant!"

"Cartman?"

"Ahh!" Cartman yelped, jumping backwards into the machine. He stared, startled, at his redheaded friend who had somehow snuck up behind him. "Oh, hey, Kyle," he said, trying to be casual, pushing himself up from the machine and straightening out his hoodie. "Sup?"

"Well I've been playing DDR for the last twenty minutes," Kyle replied with a grimace. "Stan and Kenny wouldn't let me go. They've got bored of laughing at me now though, so I'm going to go play something else. What are _you_ doing?"

Cartman chuckled nervously. "Who, me? Nothin' much, y'know. Just…just chillin'."

"Are you trying to win a stuffed toy?" Kyle asked, walking up to the claw machine to look into it. "What are you going for?"

"Not the elephant!" Cartman blurted out loudly, earning a strange look from Kyle. "I-I mean," he said, lowering his voice, "I was just, uh, going for the, uh…" He snuck a discreet glance at the machine because, honestly, he had been so elephant-obsessed that he hadn't noticed what else was in there. "…Oh! Th-the pig! Yeah, I was going for the pig."

Kyle wrinkled his nose. "The pig? Well, okay," he said, shrugging as he straightened up, and then he smirked as he snidely added, "I guess it takes a pig to like a pig."

It took Cartman a moment to get that, but when he finally did he squared his shoulders and exclaimed, "Ay! Fuck off!"

Kyle chuckled and pushed him playfully in the arm. "Will do. I'll be at the Whack-a-Mole."

Cartman, pink-cheeked, touched his arm as he watched Kyle turn and leave. When sure that he was gone for good, he shook his head and turned back to the machine, rooting around in his pocket for his dwindling coin collection. "Come on, you big-eared bastard," he muttered as he slotted more coins in. "Come to Uncle Eric."

Alas, the elephant didn't. Once more, just like all the times before, it fell from the claw. Cartman banged his head against the glass. He felt himself slowly going insane. He so badly wanted to just give up and go have fun. But he couldn't. Every time he was about to call it quits, he imagined Kyle's smile. He imagined how great that smile would be if he won that elephant for him. He didn't want it to just be in his imagination – he wanted to make it a reality.

"Fuck," he cursed as he straightened up and started up playing again. "I'm deep in it, aren't I?"

Without a doubt, he was. He had been deep in it ever since middle school, when he had first fallen into it. God was probably pranking him somehow, making him fall for the boy who was supposed to be his rival, his frienemy, the antagonist to his protagonist, _anything_ but the one person who appeared in all his dreams and made his heart quicken and his palms sweat. Yet, that was exactly what Kyle was, and it fucking sucked, because it meant he did stupid things, like not giving up on claw machines even though he kept losing.

After another ten minutes of failing, Cartman was an emotional wreck. He felt like he had truly lost his mind. That overly-peppy music kept playing over and over in his head, and he sang along to it, because it was either that or shouting up a storm, which he didn't want to do in case it drew Kyle's attention to him and his _true_ endeavour. He stopped singing when the music stopped as he failed once again, for what felt to be the thousandth time. He sighed as he resignedly stuck his hand into his pocket, and then moaned woefully when he realised he only had enough coins left for one last go.

"Please," he begged the machine as he slotted them in, "please just let me get this damned elephant." The machine started up, and he grabbed the joystick, slippery from being clutched in his sweaty hand over and over again. "Please, God and Jesus and Moses and Allah and Mel Gibson and Santa and all his reindeer and elves and whoever the fuck else." He moved the claw to be above the elephant, and held his shaking thumb over the trigger button. He sounded as though he might cry as he whispered weakly, "_Please_ just let me get this _one_ fucking stupid elephant for Jew-boy."

With a here-goes-nothing push of the button, the claw descended. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion as the claw closed around the elephant, and lifted it up and up and up. Cartman paid more attention to the ascension than he had ever paid to any of his classes. He held his breath, as though that would help, when it finally reached the ceiling. There, the claw juddered, and the elephant shuddered in its grasp. Cartman waited for it to fall…

It didn't.

Cartman watched with wide eyes and bated breath as the claw carried the elephant effortlessly across the machine, to the chute, where it let go. There was a dull thump as the elephant landed in the collection hatch, followed by a loud thud as Cartman fell to his knees in front of the machine. His face and hands were pressed to the cold, hard surface of it, and his shoulders shook as he was wracked with relieved sobs.

"Thank you," he whispered to God and Jesus and Moses and Allah and Mel Gibson and Santa and all his reindeer and elves and whoever the fuck else was responsible for him finally, _finally_ winning.

"Dude, are you alright?" came Stan's voice from behind him.

Cartman shot up from the floor, and spun round to be met with the sight of his three friends looking at him with concern. "Y-yeah! I'm fine! Totally fine!"

"Are you sure?" Kyle asked, raising a brow. "You're crying."

"No, I just…" Cartman sniffed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "I just got some dust in my eyes is all. The people who clean this place do a shit job, Jesus fuck."

"Okay," Kyle said slowly, sounding unconvinced. "Well, anyway, the rest of us are done here and want to go get some food. You coming?"

"Uh," Cartman said, starting to feel nervous. "Yeah, but first..."

"What is it, dude?" Stan asked, cocking his head at him. "Can it wait? We're hungry."

"Uh, well," Cartman muttered, wondering what to do. He had won the elephant for Kyle, and that was great, but he had never considered how he was going to _give_ it to him. He couldn't just hand it to him and let him know he had won it for him – that would make his feelings far too obvious, or Kyle would get suspicious of the toy and refuse to take it. He had to do a little lying. "Well, I was going for the pig," he said as he knelt down and got the elephant out of the hatch, "but all I got was this lame thing." Kyle gasped when he stood back up, holding the elephant out to him, so Cartman couldn't help smiling ever so slightly. "I don't want it," he continued, pushing it further towards him, "so here, you can have it. Happy Valentine's, I guess, or whatever."

"Really?" Kyle asked disbelievingly, taking the elephant from Cartman's hand. He held it up to his face to look closer upon it, and he smiled at it, in the most beautiful way, and _that_ was what Cartman had spent forever becoming as poor as Kenny for. In that moment, everything – all the lost time and the wasted money and the rollercoaster of rage and remorse – felt worth it. "Thanks, Cartman," Kyle cheered happily, bringing the elephant into his chest and hugging it tightly, nuzzling his face into its soft fur.

"Whatever," Cartman huffed, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets, heat rising to his cheeks as his bashfulness grew. "I didn't do it for you."

"Didn't you?" Kenny teased in a sing-song voice. Cartman shot him a deadly glare, which Kenny only snickered at. It went unnoticed by Kyle, who was busy fawning over his elephant, and Stan, who was already stepping foot out of the arcade, calling behind him for the others to follow.

As they did, Kyle couldn't take his eyes off of his plush pachyderm; which was lucky, because then he wasn't able to notice how Cartman couldn't take his eyes off of _him_. He looked so happy, and it made Cartman happy too, and more than a little proud, to know that he was the one who had brought that smile to his face. It was better than he could have ever hoped. For him, it really had turned out to be a happy Valentine's Day.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Happy Valentine's Day! I love you all, and I hope that you like my gift to you. Originally, I was writing an entirely different fic for today. However, it has turned out longer than I anticipated, and it's only half-way through, so I haven't managed to finish it in time. Therefore, that one will have to be submitted _next_ Valentine's Day. For now, this is my Plan B fic, inspired by a cute idea my friend shortstackedcheesecake came up with.  
Thank you for reading this, and I hope you liked doing so as much as I liked writing it!**

**Disclaimer: South Park does not belong to me, but to its creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**


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